


Melchritz Anthology

by musicalkiddo



Category: Spring Awakening - Sheik/Sater
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-12
Updated: 2016-09-12
Packaged: 2018-08-14 13:51:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 7,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8016514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musicalkiddo/pseuds/musicalkiddo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of all my Melchritz drabbles/prompt fills/stories from Tumblr!  I was tired of them being all over the place, and this made sense as a way to organize them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From a Tumblr prompt-
> 
> Ways to say "I love you": With a hoarse voice, under the blankets

Melchior Gabor was, if nothing else, relentless.  Ever since the first time they’d slept together, a night of nerves and passion almost a year ago, and he’d found out how ticklish Moritz was he’d been using it to his advantage on a nearly daily basis.

Waking up the sleepiest boy in the world? A few fingers on the ribs.  Getting him to smile after a long day? A puff of breath on the bottom of his feet.  It was almost too easy.

But today Moritz wasn’t just tired, he was sad.  Melchior didn’t even need to ask, he’d heard his boyfriend on the phone with his dad for almost an hour.  There was no way a conversation like that would have left Moritz in a good mood.

Melchior found Moritz in bed, curled up, staring at a wall.  He climbed in next to him.

“Hey,” he said softly.  Moritz didn’t answer.  Melchior pulled the other boy close to him and ran his fingers down his arm.  Moritz shivered a little at the touch but gave no other reaction.  “I love you,” Melchior told him.  Unsatisfied with the silence he got in return, Melchior turned to his secret weapon.

Moritz didn’t want to laugh.  He was angry, he was sad, his dad was an asshole… but he couldn’t help it.  In mere seconds he dissolved at his boyfriend’s fingertips, running up and down his sides and bringing tears to his eyes.

“Oh. My. God,” he breathed between laughs.  “Stop!  Leave me alone!”

“Say you love me too!” demanded Melchior, refusing to cease his tickling.

Moritz wiggled free and dove under the blanket, still laughing.  “Never!”

Melchior grabbed the soft lump, trying to tickle through the layers.  “Say it!”

“I love you!” Moritz cried out, voice hoarse from laughter.  He popped his head out from the blanket cautiously, looking up at Melchior, grinning with self-satisfaction.  “But you’re an asshole.”  


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From a Tumblr prompt-
> 
> Ways to say "I love you": In a letter

Moritz missed Melchior.  He’d been trying to deny it since he got to America, but it was impossible.  He was happier now than he’d been in Germany, of that he was sure, but he hated that it came at such a cost.

They’d been so close before he left, telling each other everything, even the things Moritz didn’t really want to know.  Close enough for Melchior to convince his mother to change her mind, to fund Moritz’s trip to America.  And thank God he had, because if Moritz had been forced to stay with his father any longer…

But he was in America now.  He was free.  And he and Melchior wrote each other letters constantly.  It didn’t replace being able to see him, but at least it was communication.

And then one day he got a letter far superior to any letter that had ever been written in the history of ink.

“ _My dearest Moritz,_

_I’m coming to see you._

_Well, it’s more complicated than that.  You know that Wendla is dead, and you know that it is not because of anemia.  Other people are starting to find out, and my mama believes it will be best for our family to start over._

_We’re coming to America, Moritz.  I’ll be with you soon._

_I can’t wait to see you.  To hug you.  We have so much to discuss._

_Yours,_

_Melchior Gabor.”_

Moritz jumped out of his seat when he read Melchior’s words.  He couldn’t contain his joy.  The two of them, together again, in America… it felt like a dream.

His letter back was very short,

( _Dear Melchior,_

_I love you._

_Forever,_

_Moritz Steifel.)_

but it didn’t matter.  By the time it arrived at Melchior’s house he’d already be on his way and Moritz could tell him in person.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From a Tumblr prompt-
> 
> Ways to say "I love you": In awe, the first time you realized it

Moritz lived with his head in the clouds. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to know what was going on in the real world, it’s just that there was an equal amount going on inside his own head. Things that required his focus, his attention.

His best friend Melchior tried to help. He shared the notes he took in class, filled Moritz in on gossip, he’d even grabbed Moritz’s hand while walking home to keep him safe in traffic before. But most of the time he was a lost cause.

On this particular Friday night, the gang was all at Melchior’s house watching a movie. Originally Melchior had invited only Moritz, but had agreed to have everyone when Moritz remembered how many people he’d accidentally agreed to hang out with over the course of the week.

Moritz, focused on the high-speed chase on screen, realized that some of their friends were whispering to each other and glancing at where he sat, leg pressed against Melchior’s with the other boy’s arm around his shoulder.

He pulled his attention away from the screen and turned to face Melchior, who seemed nervous.

“Is this a date?” Moritz asked suddenly, voice a little too loud to be considered a whisper.

“Um…” Melchior looked at their friends, strewn about the living room. “It was supposed to be.”

Someone paused the movie. The room was silent. “I’m sorry. I didn’t… I didn’t realize you feel like that about me.” 

“You didn’t?” Melchior was talking so quietly Moritz had to lean dangerously close to hear his unsure words. “Moritz, I’ve been trying to tell you for months. I’m in love with you.”

Moritz heard one of the girls sigh dreamily from the other side of the room. He couldn’t stop looking at Melchior, normally intense eyes scared and searching.

Everything made sense now. The way he sometimes caught Melchior looking at him, the way Melchior took care of him. The reason he always wanted to be around Melchior, even when he didn’t need to be.

“I love you too,” he realized out loud. His eyes widened. “Oh man. I invited everyone to our date.”

Melchior just laughed and pulled him into a hug.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From a Tumblr prompt-
> 
> Ways to say "I love you": Not said to me

Very few people got to see Melchior Gabor’s soft side.  Always political, opinionated, and brash, most of his friends were used to leaving his apartment with a headache.  Not that they minded, of course, that was just who he was.  So it came as a shock to Moritz when he came home one day to find his boyfriend sitting on the living room floor, whispering about something.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

Melchior shushed him.  “Alexander is sleeping,” he explained softly.

“Who?”

Melchior moved aside and Moritz saw a tiny kitten asleep on a pillow.

“You got a cat?”

“ _We_ got a cat!” Melchior said hopefully.  “He was abandoned, Moritz, under a bush.  He was all alone.”

“He was probably waiting for his mom or something.”  Moritz didn’t like the idea of being responsible for anything alive.  “You should put him back.”

“Please,” Melchior begged.  “He needs us.”

Moritz couldn’t resist his boyfriend’s eyes, and Alexander did look awfully cute, all curled up in a little ball… 

“Fine,” Moritz gave in.  “But you’re in charge of the gross stuff.”

“Did you hear that?” Melchior asked, leaning in close to the sleeping kitten.  “We’re gonna take care of you!”  Alexander woke up, stretching to lick Melchior’s nose.

Moritz had never seen Melchior smile brighter, and it made him smile too.

“I love you too,” Melchior whispered, kissing Alexander’s striped head.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From a Tumblr prompt:
> 
> Ways to say "I love you": In a blissful sigh as you fall asleep

Moritz was not good at taking care of himself.  He was always forgetting to do things like eat dinner, or stay hydrated, or turn the heat on in his car.  He was scatter-brained, always thinking about something else.

Logically, this would make him a far less than ideal candidate for a caretaker for the poor flu-stricken Melchior.  But nobody else was willing to go within a hundred feet of the guy, and Moritz knew he’d get sick this season anyway, so he volunteered to stop by his apartment and check on him.

Melchior was surprisingly peppy for someone with a fever as high as his.

“Just eat the soup, Melchi.  We can go ice-skating when you’re better, okay?  Our friends will kill me if I let you leave this bed.”

“Okay, screw ice skating.  There’s a political rally downtown tonight and I think if I could just get into the shower I’d…” he paused when he sat up, his head spinning.  Moritz pushed him back against the pillows and handed him a bowl of soup.

“Eat,” he commanded.  Melchior ate it.

When the last drop of soup had been slurped down, Moritz handed Melchior the tv remote.

“You pick,” Melchior told him.  “I’m probably just gonna fall asleep anyway.”

Moritz flipped through the channels.  “Animal Planet?” he suggested.  Melchior nodded.

True to his word, Melchior fell asleep a few minutes after the show started.

Moritz watched a man build elaborate tree houses for almost two hours before he realized he’d be late for class if he didn’t leave immediately.  Unsure of whether he should wake Melchior to say goodbye, he turned off the tv and stood up.

The sudden silence registered in Melchior’s mind, and he opened his eyes halfway.

“Melchi?” Moritz whispered.  Melchior finished opening his eyes.  “I’m gonna go to class.” He pushed Melchior’s hair away from his face with a gentle hand.  “I’ll come by to check up on you tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay,” Melchior mumbled softly, eyes fluttering shut again.  “Thanks for taking care of me.”

“Any time.”  Moritz was a little glad Melchior couldn’t see how big his smile was.

“I love you,” Melchior sighed, his lashes hitting his cheeks and his breath falling back into a deep, steady pattern.

“I love you too,” Moritz whispered, planting a light kiss on Melchior’s warm forehead before quietly leaving the apartment.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From a Tumblr prompt:
> 
> Ways to say "I love you": Over and over again, till it's nothing but a senseless babble
> 
> **SUICIDE ATTEMPT TW IN THIS CHAPTER

Moritz had been hoping Melchior would find him.  He tried not wanting it, but he couldn’t.  Sitting alone in the rapidly darkening forest, the cold closing in around him, all Moritz could think of was his best friend.  And the gun weighing heavy in his pocket.

He didn’t want to do it.

He wanted to do it.

He didn’t want to do it.

He threw up in the grass.

He put his hand in his pocket, held the gun tightly, carefully.

He wanted to do it.

He pulled it out and looked at it, and then he closed his eyes.  With an inhale he stuck it in his mouth.

There was a bang.

He opened his eyes and saw the gun, maybe a yard away, discarded in a pile of leaves.  He turned his head.  Melchior was on top of him, pinning him to the ground, breathing hard.

“Moritz.”

Moritz realized he was crying.  He pushed Melchior off him and sat up, hugging his knees to his chest, but Melchior pulled him close again, wrapping his arms around the tired, trembling boy.

“Why did you come?” Moritz asked.  Melchior had Wendla now, he had a whole different life.

“I love you,” Melchior whispered into his messy hair.  He was crying too, and when Moritz didn’t respond he said it again.  And again, and again, and again, rocking his best friend in his arms for hours.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From a Tumblr prompt-
> 
> Ways to say "I love you": Too quick, mumbled into your scarf

It wasn’t that Moritz was embarrassed to say he loved Melchior.  His best friend was just a lot more open with things like that.  And Moritz knew he and Melchi meant it in different ways.  He’d die for Melchior, he’d kill for him.  But he didn’t want to be involved with him.  And Melchior did.

So Moritz was cautious.  He said it lightly, always lightly.  A casual note in a birthday card or a be safe text or a reminder to take a hat.  Nothing that could be misinterpreted.

Melchior, irrevocably in love with his best friend, got tired of waiting for the reciprocation that was never coming, so he tried to move on.  Found a girlfriend, threw himself into their relationship.  He was trying to forget the way it felt to hug Moritz, to watch him chew on his pencil, to get a be safe text from him or a reminder to take a hat.

The problem with this was that Melchior was good at everything.  With forgetting he loved Moritz came forgetting Moritz, and before long a month had passed without the boys speaking.

Moritz, afraid to lead Melchior on, afraid to ruin his happiness, watched from afar as his best friend made bad choices.  Skipping class to meet up with a girl.  Not doing his homework.  Coming into school late.  Forgetting to wear a hat even though it was below freezing outside.

When he decided to say something, Melchior got mad at him.

“Why should I listen to you?” he demanded.

“Melchi, come on,” Moritz begged.  “Just look at what you’re doing!  It’s not right, you’re gonna get in trouble.”

“You didn’t answer me.”  Moritz stayed silent.  “Moritz?  Why do you care what I do?”

“Because I love you!” There was desperation in his voice.  His face was wrapped up against the biting wind and Melchior couldn’t see the tears in his eyes.  It was the first time he’d ever said the words out loud, and they came too fast.

“You don’t mean that.”

“Melchior…”

“You aren’t my keeper, Moritz.  You don’t get to do this.  You don’t get to say that like it doesn’t mean anything.”

“It does mean something, Melchi, I…” But Melchior was already walking away.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From a Tumblr prompt:
> 
> Ah shit man I have another idea too but if you're busy like don't blow yourself out or anything. Okay this one about moritz just reflecting on his feelings for Melchior and !! Wait what if then he tells him !! Wait or if melchi somehow finds out accidentally and then happy ending maybe?? !!! Or !! What if he rejects him ?!:( ?! Omg

Moritz hated that he had to wake up for school when he’d only just been able to fall asleep after being plagued all night by horrible thoughts he was unable to stop. He was tired all the time, but especially now. As he dragged himself out of bed, he tried to find a reason, any reason, to make it through a tortuous school day. And he did- Melchior. Seeing his best friend was reason enough to keep going, even though their interactions would be nothing like the ones they’d been having nightly in Moritz’s head. But that was good, Moritz told himself, because he wanted to go to heaven one day and what he wanted to do with Melchior… it wasn’t good. Wasn’t right.

But that didn’t stop him from thinking about it, even in class. He had to turn his head at a kind of weird angle to look at Melchior, but the other boy was so absorbed in Herr Knochenbruch’s words he didn’t even notice the eyes piercing his face. Moritz was free to stare and daydream to his heart’s content. He imagined holding Melchior’s hand, sharing a house with him one day and cooking lunch together in a sunny kitchen, being happy. He hated himself.

Why couldn’t he find happiness in the right things, like the other boys? Even Otto’s horrible dreams were better than what Moritz wanted.

When class ended, Moritz dashed out of the building before Melchior could say anything to him. He accidentally ran right into Wendla Bergmann, looking very nervous and shifting from foot to foot.

“What are you doing here?” Moritz asked the nervous girl.

“I’m looking for Melchior, actually.”

Moritz’s heart sunk. Melchior thought Wendla was interesting and pretty and had been talking about her all the time. “Well, I’m afraid you’re out of luck. He’s staying in the classroom to debate translations with Hanschen Rilow.” He tried to keep the bitterness out of his voice.

“Oh. That’s too bad.” Wendla paused. “Maybe you could walk me home, Moritz. It’s been so long since I’ve seen you.”

Moritz, unable to think of a reason to say no, agreed to walk Wendla home. She was on the way to his house anyway.

As they walked, she told him about the charity work she’d been doing, and he tried not to let Melchior’s ideas of the world creep into his head and make him a bad listener. She then told him that there was a boy she thought was amazing, but she didn’t know if he thought of her as more than a child, if he thought of her at all. She was careful to avoid describing the boy, as she knew Moritz would recognize him. Moritz, in a similar situation, listened raptly.

“What are you going to do about it?” he asked.

“Nothing! I’d be too scared to ask him how he feels. Besides, we’re too young.”

“I know what you mean. I like someone too, but I could never tell him-”

“Him?” Wendla, always sharp, caught his pronoun immediately.

“Oh, um, I must have just mixed up my…” Moritz knew he was caught because of the way Wendla was looking at him.

“It’s okay,” she said quietly. “You can’t help it.”

“No,” Moritz shook his head. “It’s awful. I don’t want to be like this.”

Wendla took his hand in hers. “Tell me about him, I don’t mind. You listened to me talk.”

Moritz took a deep breath, and Wendla squeezed his hand. “Well, he’s amazing. He’s so smart and he understands everything, but he’s nice about it. And he has these intelligent eyes that always make me feel so safe, and curly hair, and he’s so kind. He’s…” Moritz didn’t know how much to reveal. Wendla was listening intently, both of them zoned out from the outside world altogether, oblivious to anything going on around them. “He’s my best friend, Wendla. But he doesn’t want me, he’d think this is wrong. I don’t want to loose him.” Wendla knew then that they were talking about the same radical boy, and that Moritz’s feelings were stronger than even hers. She hardly knew Melchior, but Moritz spent every day with him.

Speaking of Melchior, he was suddenly there, saying Moritz’s name quietly.

Moritz spun around. “How long have you been behind us?” he snapped, terrified.

“A while. I saw you walking with Wendla and I thought I should catch up and say hi.”

“How was your debate?” Moritz planned to pretend like he hadn’t just been sharing his feelings regarding one atheistic boy with Wendla.

“I heard what you said.”

“What?”

“My mama will be expecting me,” Wendla interrupted, giving Moritz a pointed look before skipping away.

Melchior waited until she was out of earshot to repeat himself. “I heard what you told Wendla.”

“Oh.”

“You’re my best friend too, Moritz.”

“Oh, I… I wasn’t talking about you, Melchi. It’s, um…” Moritz couldn’t think of anyone else’s name. Nobody compared to Melchior. He hung his head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to find out.”

“Don’t be ashamed about it.”

“I don’t want you to hate me.” Moritz was still looking at the ground.

“I don’t hate you. Moritz, I could never hate you.”

“But I…”

Melchior put a gentle hand under the sleepy boy’s chin and raised his head so he was looking at him. “It’s not wrong to feel like you do.”

“But Father Kaulbach says-”

“He doesn’t understand. There’s no sin in this, Moritz. How could there be, if it’s love?”

“This?” Moritz asked quietly, afraid of the answer.

But he didn’t get an answer. Instead, Melchior kissed him softly, quickly.

“Melchi…”

“I love you, Moritz. And I refuse to believe there’s anything wrong with that.”

And Moritz, comforted once again by Melchior’s logical words, loved him too.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From a Tumblr prompt:
> 
> could you please write some melchritz fic, literally anything happy or sad or anything really

Moritz found himself, once again, incredibly glad Melchior Gabor was his best friend.  Who else would spend their weekend helping him understand his stupid precalculus homework?  It wasn’t like Melchi didn’t have other options, lots of people (girls, especially) wanted his time.  But Moritz was the one who got him, and he was willing to explain the same concepts over and over again until they made even a tiny bit of sense to the scatterbrained boy, and then once more after that for good measure.  And, unlike nearly everyone else in his life, Melchior had never once made Moritz feel stupid.

“Wait, wait, where did you get seventeen?” Moritz asked, reaching out to stop the pencil Melchior was frantically moving across the page.  He wanted to cry.

“From up here,” Melchior answered calmly, pointing to an equation a few lines up.

“I don’t get it.”  Moritz leaned back in his chair, away from the notes where Melchior had solved the same problem for him three times already.  “I don’t get this!”

“Hey.  It’s okay, we’ll figure it out.  Do you want to start over?”

Moritz put his hands over his face.  “I want to drop out of school.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”  Melchior put his pencil down and scooted his chair, which used to sit at the Stiefel’s dining room table but had taken up a permanent residence at Moritz’s desk, closer to Moritz’s.  He put his hand on the other boy’s shoulder.

“I’m never going to get this.”

Now it was Melchior who wanted to cry.  He hated that there was nothing he could do to help the boy he loved feel better about school.  Unless… but Moritz had never done anything to suggest the feelings were requited.  And he already had so much on his plate with the pressure his parents put on him and his academic struggles, Melchior couldn’t bare to create any more problems for the perpetually exhausted boy.

“Come on,” he said instead of kissing Moritz.  “We’ll go through it slower, okay?  And maybe if you write this time you’ll soak it in better.”  He rubbed soothing circles with his thumb into Moritz’s bony shoulder.

Moritz removed his hands from his face, revealing his lips, and took a deep breath.  Melchior was glad he wasn’t as distractible as his best friend.  If he was there was no way he could have ever been any help at all in the same room where Moritz slept, where he had the dreams about which he confessed to Melchior all the time, where he…

Melchior snapped back to reality when he heard Moritz frantically erasing something.  He put a soft hand over Moritz’s, stopping it.

“Relax,” he whispered.  “Let’s just start from the beginning.”  He covered the wrinkled sheet of paper with a clean one.  He couldn’t be good for Moritz the way he wanted to be, but he damn well could be good for him like this.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From a Tumblr prompt:
> 
> whenever you are up to it could you write some melchritz smut :0
> 
> **THIS CHAPTER IS NSFW

“Are you sure your mom isn’t gonna come home?” Moritz asked, glancing towards the door and subconsciously moving away from Melchior.

“Moritz Stiefel,” Melchior laughed.  “You’re scared.”

“I am not.”  Melchior shot him a pointed look.  “Okay, fine.  But this is scary, right?  Are you not scared?”

Melchior considered lying, but this was Moritz.  And if they were going to go through with this there shouldn’t be dishonesty between them.  “Of course I’m scared.”  He scooted closer to Moritz and put a hand on the other boy’s leg.  “But I trust you, and we want this, and my mom definitely will not come home.”  Moritz chuckled, and Melchior took advantage of the moment to kiss his boyfriend softly.

“Okay,” Moritz said when he pulled away from the kiss.  “Let’s do it.”

Melchior grinned.  He’d been waiting for this moment for years, had done all the research required.  (If you could call extensive porn watching research.)  He brought Moritz’s lips back to his with a gentle hand under the other boy’s chin.  They’d done a lot of this, kissing, over the course of their relationship.  But this time was different, there was a kind of electricity between their lips.  Melchior couldn’t keep his hands off Moritz’s body, and Moritz couldn’t keep in the moan that escaped his lips.

When he heard it, Melchior started blindly fumbling with the buttons on Moritz’s shirt, sliding it off and then pulling his own over his head, momentarily breaking the kiss.  Moritz’s lips were hungrily waiting for him when he returned to them, and he felt his usually anxious boyfriend taking control, pushing him back onto the bed and climbing on top of him.  Melchior tasted coffee on his tongue as Moritz slid his fingers into his curls and pulled his face even closer to his own.

It wasn’t exactly the romantic extravaganza Moritz had pictured, but Melchior was trying to unbutton his pants and he was already really hard, and it was working for him despite the lack of candles and flowers.  He got tired of Melchior failing to undress him, pulling away and doing it himself.  Melchior did the same.  And then they were both boxer clad and they were kissing, and that had never happened before.  And it felt good.  Moritz tried not freak out when he felt Melchior getting hard against his thigh, tried not to be embarrassed that it meant his boyfriend could definitely feel him.   _You want this_ , he told himself, and it was true, especially when Melchior was sucking at his neck like that… Moritz pushed him away.

“Don’t leave a mark,” he commanded, worried about what people would think.  Melchior didn’t answer, just moved his lips down, kissing Melchior’s collarbone.  He rolled them over so he was on top, kissing his way down Moritz’s chest and stomach.  Moritz bit his bottom lip.

“Can I?” Melchior breathed against Moritz’s underwear.

“God, yes.”

And so he did, pulling the underwear down Moritz’s legs and dropping them on the floor before slowly crawling his way back up.  Between the ankles, the calves, the knees… he was so close Moritz thought he might die, kissing his thighs and his stomach and everywhere but there.  They’d already waited so long, Moritz couldn’t stand it.

“Melchi, please, I-” he didn’t have to say any more.  Melchior’s warm wet mouth was on him, and Moritz couldn’t stop himself from moaning in pleasure.  He wanted to close his eyes to keep from being overwhelmed, but he also wanted to absorb every second of what was happening.  Melchior Gabor, the Melchior Gabor, with his lips around… he couldn’t bare to think about it, the pleasure was too intense.  He focused on stamina.

Moritz lasted longer than he would have expected to before he was tugging on Melchior’s hair and panting, “stop.”

Melchior pulled away with an indecently hot popping sound.  “I don’t mind if you come,” he said softly, licking his lips.  Moritz just nodded at him, so he dropped his head back down.  Moritz came.  He tried to contain himself from being too loud, but it was impossible.  He’d never felt so good in his entire life, so happy, so light.  Like he was floating.

Melchior kissed his way back up to Moritz’s mouth, laying on his side next to him and leaning over his boyfriend’s face.  “That was amazing,” Moritz breathed.  Melchior kissed him harder.  His dick was throbbing painfully in his underwear, but he didn’t want to make Moritz feel pressured to do anything.  Luckily, he didn’t have to.  The messy haired boy pushed Melchior onto his back and crawled down to his waist.

“Your turn,” he murmured.  Maybe he was biased because it was the penis he’d been dreaming about since his first sex ed lesson, but for Moritz giving head was just as good as getting it.  He loved hearing the hottest guy he knew respond to different angles and tongue movements and depths, and he loved holding his hips in place while he bucked and came.

He especially loved kissing him after, both of them sweaty and tired and in love with each other, wrapped in each other’s arms in Melchior’s twin bed with the 4pm light shining in through the window.  And hey, Melchior’s mom wasn’t due home until 5.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From a Tumblr prompt:
> 
> This may be too specific but how about a canon era unrequited melchritz fic in which moritz actually has to get directly rejected somehow. If it's to specific sorry and nvm but if you write thank you sooo much

Moriz missed his best friend. Melchior was still around, of course, but he was different now.  Moritz didn’t see him nearly as much, and he felt the loss deep in his heart.  His marks, which had always been low, were dangerously close to failing and he was having trouble finding excuses to stay away from home without Melchior to talk to his father for him.

He tried waiting for Melchior after school, at his house, at his favorite thinking spot by the river, but Melchior never showed up. He heard from Ernst Robel that he and Hanschen had spotted the idealistic boy a few times in the vineyard they frequented, whispering things with Wendla Bergmann.  If Ernst’s stories were true, the vineyard was a very romantic place. Moritz wanted to throw up.

He was glad that Ernst was around, at least. He was no help with Latin or math, and he spent most of his time sneaking around with Hanschen, but he was kind at heart, and he understood what Moritz was going through, how he was feeling.

How was he feeling?

Every time he looked at Melchior his stomach flipped upside down, and he wanted to cry every morning when he woke up from another dream.  He was no longer seeing sky blue stockings, the images had been replaced with Melchior’s legs in his tall socks, his fingers fiddling a piece of chalk, his…. Moritz hated himself for even thinking about it.

“It’s alright,” Ernst had told him when he admitted his feelings, full of shame.  “The clergymen lie, Hanschen told me.”  But it felt all too real when the pastor said he’d go to hell for such sins.

Melchior, of course, didn’t care.  He was off sinning with Wendla and Moritz was home with his thoughts and his tears and the memories of Melchi whispering forbidden words into his ear, showing him forbidden pictures.

He couldn’t bare it any longer.  Moritz gathered his courage and walked to the vineyard one day after school, praying he’d find Melchi and not anyone else.

To his delight, Melchior had beaten him there and was already stretched out on the grass. He probably knew a shortcut, the clever boy.

“Moritz!” Melchior called, spotting him approaching.  “What are you doing here?”

“Looking for you, actually, Melchi.  Can we talk?”

Melchior glanced at the path and then back to Moritz’s troubled face.  “Of course,” he answered.

“I’ve been thinking a lot of all the things you taught me.”

“I assume you don’t mean Latin,” Melchior chuckled.

“I want to experience those things, what you wrote about.”  His heart was pounding.  What would Melchior’s body feel like against his?

“I thought it scared you,” Melchi leaned close to tease, bumping his shoulder against the other boy’s.

Moritz took a deep breath. “It doesn’t anymore.”

“Well, great. I happen to know Martha Bessell thinks you’re the best, Wendla told me she said you’re soulful, whatever that means.”  Moritz tensed up. As if summoned by the sound her name being spoken, beautiful young Wendla was on her way towards them.  When she noticed Melchior was already in Moritz’s company she hung back, waiting for them to finish.  Moritz hadn’t yet spoken.  “Well?” Melchior prompted. “Are you going to talk to Martha?”

“She won’t know anything, Melchi.  She doesn’t understand what you do.  I thought maybe if you show me…”

Melchior laughed, which felt to Moritz like a knife.  “Don’t be ridiculous, Moritz. I can’t do that.”

“Nobody would have to know, Melchi, just us!”  Melchior didn’t answer.  “I can’t stop thinking about it,” the tired young boy pleaded softly.  “Let’s just try it.”

“Wendla’s waiting for me,” Melchior said quietly, tilting his head in her direction.  “You should go home.”

Moritz felt tears fill his eyes, and blinked them away angrily.  “I thought you don’t believe in anything, in hell.”

“I don’t.”

“So what’s wrong with me wanting you?”

“I don’t want you back,” Melchior shot out. “It’s not your anatomy, Moritz, it’s just you.”

Melchior could see Moritz’s heartbreak on his face. He felt bad for being so harsh, but he couldn’t indulge his friend. Wendla was waiting to take his lips against hers, to put her hands on his skin, and Moritz could never make him feel the way she did.

This is what he told himself when he watched his long time best friend gather his limbs from the grass and run off, not even stopping when Wendla called out a greeting.

“What’s wrong with Moritz?” she asked, sitting down next to Melchior.

“Nothing,” he answered, pulling her into a kiss so he could lose himself.

Moritz made the mistake of looking back, and he cried the whole way home.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A sequel to the previous chapter, requested on Tumblr

After Melchior rejected him, Moritz fell into a state of depression.  When Frau Gabor came visiting to ask his mother why they never saw the boy around their house anymore, she didn’t know what to say.  No one did.  He focused all his energy on his school work, refusing to talk to even Ernst about what had happened.

A change was clear in Melchior too.  He was bottled up, reserved, angry with both himself and Moritz for what had happened.  Wendla was the first of their friends to try to figure out what happened.

“You haven’t spoken of Moritz in days,” she pointed out a little while after the incident.  “He used to appear in all of your stories.  Is something wrong?”

Melchior didn’t know how to tell her.  He didn’t want her to think less of him, to think even for a moment that he would consider something like what Moritz had suggested.

“He’s just very busy trying not to fail,” he finally said, his voice harsh.

Wendla wasn’t eased by this response, but she let the subject drop.

Moritz had made up his mind to never talk to Melchior Gabor again.  They’d see each other in class, of course, but there was no need to acknowledge each other.  The boy had broken his heart, and he would never forgive him.  This promise to himself was broken one day, about three weeks later, when he and Melchior were the last two in line to show their work to Herr Sonnenstich.  A student from another classroom came in quickly and whispered something to their strict teacher, and the man followed him out of the classroom with a barked order.  “You are free to go if I have seen your work.  I will you see you tomorrow.”

Melchior and Moritz, work still unchecked, had no choice but to wait as their classmates pushed out of the room.  Moritz sat back down, looking at his sloppy work sadly.  He hoped it was sufficient.  He tried to avoid looking at Melchior, acutely aware of his presence when the other boy sat down next to him, carefully putting his neat work next to Moritz’s on the desk.

“What you wrote looks fine,” Melchior said quietly, carefully.  He didn’t know how he felt about Moritz after what he’d done, but he knew he was at fault for at least part of their problems.  He had been awful to his best friend in a time when he needed his acceptance.  “You might want to change the last word though.”

“I don’t need advice from you,” Moritz spat.

“I’m sorry, Moritz.  Not about the Latin, because I’m right about that, but about what I said to you.”

“It doesn’t matter.”  Moritz angrily erased the chalked word and replaced it.

“If you’re interested in a, um, relationship with another boy… I don’t care, Moritz, honestly.  You should talk to Hanschen about it, I’ve heard that… It doesn’t matter.  Just, not me, okay?”

Moritz finally turned to face Melchior.  “Hanschen is seeing Ernst Robel.”

“Oh.  Well, um, then we’ll find you someone else.”

“No, that’s not the point anyway.  It’s not boys, Melchi, it’s you.  Ever since we were children it’s been you.  Remember when we used to all play together?  And Ilse would try to be on my side but I only ever wanted you?”  
“Can’t we just be friends again?”

Moritz wanted to cry.  He didn’t know how to say no, how to get what he wanted the way Melchior always seemed to.  The other boy’s eyes were on him, full of concern and unanswered questions, and he swallowed the lump in his throat.  He thought of the dreams that kept coming, every night.

“Sure,” he finally said.  “Friends.”

Melchior grinned, putting a hand on Moritz’s arm briefly before quickly pulling it away and standing as Herr Sonnenstich returned to the room.  Moritz squeezed his eyes shut and wished he’d never asked Melchior for that stupid essay.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From a Tumblr prompt:
> 
> I didn't know you could sing

Moritz had truly thought his best friend Melchior was asleep.  They’d been lounging in the sun for hours while Melchior talked about Wendla and Moritz fiddled with the grass.  He felt weird the whole time, like something was wrong with him.  Melchior wanted so badly to do with Wendla the things he’d written about in his essay.  The other boys wanted to be with people too, Georg, Otto, even Hanschen and Ernst showed affection.  But the thought of it, of the overwhelming feeling Melchior said would happen, terrified Moritz.

He wanted to be with Melchior, but not in that way.  He was more than content to be as they were now, silently resting on the grass with Moritz’s back against a tree and Melchior’s head in his lap.  He didn’t even realize he was running his fingers gently through Melchior’s curls, and the other boy didn’t protest.

He was tired, but too anxious to close his eyes.  He couldn’t figure out what was wrong with him.  While the other boys bragged about their dreams Moritz woke up every night in cold sweats, horrified and embarrassed and put off.  Melchior didn’t understand how badly he wanted them to go away, or how being with somebody wasn’t the way he wanted to get rid of them.

 _Maybe it’s for the best,_ he told himself. _Maybe this way I’ll actually get to be an angel, if I just wait until I’m married.  I’m in no rush._  He started quietly reciting a prayer, more air than sound passing through his lips.  Before long he was humming, and then singing a song they’d learned when they were children in Sunday school.  It was about angels, and he hadn’t sung it in a long time.  He was surprised he even knew the words.

Melchior, in a state between awake and asleep, kept his eyes closed and tried to keep himself from smiling at Moritz’s voice.  It was beautiful, even if he didn’t know why he was singing.  Maybe it was supposed to be a lullaby.  He waited until Moritz had finished the last verse before he spoke.

“I didn’t know you could sing.”

“Melchi!” Moritz pulled his fingers out of Melchior’s hair, mortified.  “I didn’t mean to wake you, I don’t even know why I remember that song, I just-” he stopped speaking when Melchior sat up.

Melchior stretched before taking Moritz’s hand.  “The angels in that song always made me think of you,” he admitted.

“Will you sing it?” Moritz asked softly, cautiously.

Melchior grinned.  “I’d love to.”  He settled himself back on the grass and closed his eyes. “Though you might have to help me with the words,” he warned.

After Melchior cleared his throat dramatically, the two boys began the song about angels, harmonizing together into the darkening night.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From a Tumblr prompt:
> 
> could you write another unrequited melchritz fic (esp canon era)

Moritz was incredibly relieved to be on break for Christmas.  Herr Knochenbruch had, of course, assigned an unmanageable amount of homework, but it was so nice to not go to school that Moritz didn’t even care.  The break was made even better when Melchior showed up unannounced at his house on Christmas eve.  Herr Stiefel let his best friend in with a suspicious squint, and Moritz ran downstairs when he heard his father’s booming voice.

“Melchior,” he said, shocked.

“Merry Christmas,” Melchior grinned.

Moritz lead him upstairs and they spread blankets on the bedroom floor before sitting.  “Do you want tea?” Moritz remembered to offer, thinking of how Frau Gabor always supplied it when he visited Melchior.

“No, thank you.  I just wanted to see you.”

Moritz grinned, and he felt his heart flutter.  He was afraid things would be strange between him and his best friend after Melchior taught him all about, well, everything, but it had been okay.  He prayed every night that the feelings he harbored for his best friend would continue to go undetected, and it was working far better than his prayers to get rid of the terrifying dreams that Melchior’s essay had worsened.  Even though he thought about Melchior all the time, his performance in school was already so poor that it could not be worsened, and Melchior was too wrapped up in his infatuation with Wendla Bergman to notice that sometimes Moritz got lost in his eyes while he ranted.

“I actually have something for you,” Melchior remembered, pulling a small box out of his pocket.

Moritz took it, embarrassed.  “I didn’t think to get anything for you,” he admitted.

“It’s alright.” Melchior put a hand on his leg.  “Just open it.”

Moritz did, and found a beautiful fountain pen inside.

“I thought it might make you feel better about school if you had something from me to write with.  I hope you like it.”

“I love it,” Moritz breathed.  “Thank you.”  His best friend’s concern about his wellbeing made his heart soar.

“Wendla helped me pick it out,” Melchior mentioned nonchalantly.  Moritz felt his heart sink instantly, and Melchior’s hand on his leg felt like a thousand medicine balls pressing down on him.  “She’s so amazing.”

Moritz wanted to cry.  It wasn’t fair that Melchior could talk so freely about his feelings for Wendla and Moritz had to keep his feelings locked inside.  Even if it would be a sin for Melchi to act on them, it was still a thousand times better than what Moritz wanted.  He stared at his pen, running his fingers over it softly as Melchior started telling him all about his adventures with Wendla, trying to hold on to the feeling he had when he first saw it resting in its box.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From a Tumblr prompt:
> 
> A combo of “It wasn’t supposed to happen like that.” and “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
> 
> (There's underage drinking in this chapter.)

Melchior and Moritz had been best friends for a very long time, and for almost every second of that friendship Moriz had a crush on Melchior.  He’d never told anyone about it, especially not Melchi.  He didn’t want to open up the opportunity for his heart to be broken.  For this reason, going to a house party sounded like torture.

He knew that Melchior, usually so intelligent and composed, was infamous for getting incredibly drunk at house parties.  He also knew that everyone from school would be there, and that they all disliked him because he was always a beat off from everyone else, and that he would have a miserable time.  But when Melchior was grinning at him…

“Fine,” he told his best friend, rolling his eyes.  “I’ll come with you.”

Melchior hugged him.  “You’ll have fun, Moritz!  I promise.  In my opinion, social interaction, even at events such as this, is a key aspect of the generic high school experience.  Without it…” Moritz tuned him out, choosing just to watch his perfect lips form the words.  He was so beautiful when he was passionate about something, which happened often.

When Melchior picked Moritz up for the party, Moritz was nervous.  His best friend squeezed his hand when they got of the car.  “This is gonna be good,” he said.  “You’ll like it.”

Melchior was wrong about this.  Moritz stood in a corner sipping some disgusting mix of Gatorade and vodka while he watched Melchior flirt with a girl from their class named Wendla.  He felt like crying, or going home, or both.  But Melchi was drunk and Moritz didn’t want him to drive, so he had to wait.

After about an hour, Ilse approached him and grabbed his arm.  “Come play spin the bottle with us!” she requested, words slightly slurred.  “You haven’t talked to anyone all night.”  Ilse had no way of knowing that Moritz had never been kissed.  At first the idea of kissing some random kid from school was horrifying to him, but Ilse was smiling so kindly at him and he figured maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to just get it over with.  So he followed her to the circle that was forming on the floor and sat next to her.  Melchior ended up right across from him, sitting next to Wendla.  Moritz tried not to stare.  He paid little attention to the first few spins of the bottle, not caring as long as it wasn’t pointed at him.  But then, suddenly, it was pointed at Melchior.  He didn’t want to watch Thea kiss him, but he couldn’t look away.  It lasted far longer than he would have liked it to, and he saw Thea slip her tongue into his best friend’s mouth.  When they pulled away, Melchior whooped a little, and everyone laughed.

The bottle spun in rapidly when Melchior’s fingers pulled away from it.  Moritz watched it pass him once, twice, three times.  He realized, as it slowed, that he was holding his breath.  And then it stopped, pointing directly at him.  He couldn’t speak.

“I’m lucky tonight,” Melchior joked, crawling drunkenly across the circle.  People laughed.  Moritz, eyes fixed on Melchior, thought he saw someone to the left of him pull out their phone to record.

Moritz closed his eyes before Melchior even got to him.  The press of his lips was like a shock to his system.  It was over all too soon, much faster than the kiss with Thea had been.  Melchior was laughing when he pulled away.

Moritz stood up and left the room, not caring that he probably looked like an idiot.  He heard the group on the floor fall silent, knowing they were wondering what was going on.  He found the front door and went outside, leaning against the house.

He had his eyes closed again, but he could feel Melchior leaning next to him, his arm brushing Moritz’s warm skin.

“What’s wrong?” Melchior asked, sounding more sober than he seemed inside.

“It wasn’t supposed to happen like that.”

“I know it was your first kiss, but at least it’s over.  And you know I care about you, at least it wasn’t with, like, Hanschen Rilow or something.  It doesn’t have to mean anything if you don’t want it to though.  You can pretend it never happened if you want a real first kiss.”

“It’s not about that,” Moritz told him sadly.

“What’s it about?”

“I’m in love with you,” Moritz admitted.  “I always have been.  And you were supposed to know that before we kissed.”

“I’m sorry.  I didn’t know.”  He paused, taking Moritz’s hand.  “But now that I do…” he moved, standing in front of the nervous boy.  “Do you want to do it right?”

“What?”

“I love you too, you idiot.”

“You do?”

Melchior answered by pressing their lips together again.

“Wow,” Moritz whispered when Melchior pulled away.

“I told you this party was a good idea.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you'd like to add to this collection and prompt me, I'm on Tumblr at hernstofficial :)


End file.
